Accidents Happen
by purplepagoda
Summary: A series of accidents rock the worlds, of these NCIS agents. Some are tiny, insignificant accidents, that simply foreshadow a day full of accidents. Some, life changing accidents. Accidents that change everything, for some of them.
1. Accidents, and Admissions

The day began like any other. Before any of them could arrive at the Navy yard, the rain had started. Normally the rain had little effect on their work. Today, was different. The storm brewing outside, was nothing compared to the tempest that was swirling within each of their lives. As the rain hit the roof, the... was hitting the fan. Each of them making unwanted discoveries. Accidents happen. Accidents in their lives, that would change them, change everything.

He makes his way towards, NCIS. Already late, he speeds up, something he rarely did, especially in the rain. Today was different. When he woke the feeling gnawing, at the pit of his stomach, told him something was wrong. His gut, was telling him, that today wasn't going to be a good day. He begins to hydroplane, at 70 miles an hour, with a lane of traffic, on each side of him. He hits the brakes, too late, though. He slams into the back of a large SUV.

She sits at her desk, staring at the computer screen. Something was wrong. More than one something. More like everything. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. This is how she planned it, not that she had planned it. She didn't plan it, that was the problem. She hated when she lost control, when she didn't have a handle on the situation. She hated accidents. An accident, more like a monumental screw up, that she couldn't change. Something she couldn't take back, with someone who meant a lot to her. Someone she wasn't ready to be committed to, though he had always been the one that she wanted. It all seemed so... insignificant now. Nothing was the way she wanted, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

He steps into the room. He hangs up his hat. His partner in crime joins him. He picks up his instruments, and begins organizing, for the day ahead. He takes a deep breath. His partner in crime bumps into the table, causing everything to crash to the ground. An accident, a little one, but it was a sign, of what was to come. It was an ominous foreshadowing, of how the rest of the day would turn out. For him, and the rest of his cohorts.

She closes the door to her car. She clicks the remote, locking the car. She picks her bag up off the ground, and swings it over her shoulder. She swings to hard. The bag knocks into the mirror of the car. The mirror shatters, and pieces fall to the ground. She places the bag on the hood of the car. She unlocks the car, and grabs a fast food bag, from the back seat. She carefully picks up the broken pieces. She allows them to fall into the bag. She reaches for the last piece, it slices through the end of her finger. She drops it into the bag, and curses as she applies pressure to her finger. Why hadn't she used tweezers? She had some in her bag. But she was in too much of a hurry to use them. A lot of good that had done her. Now she was bleeding all over the place. With no other option, she wraps her finger, in the tail of her shirt.

He finds her, at his desk, rummaging through his drawers. He drops his bag, next to the desk. He looks at her, with a grin on his face.

"Can I help you find something?"

"I thought that you had a first aid kit."

"What did you do?"

She shows him her finger.

"Do you have one, or not?"

He smiles at her, and walks over to her desk. He opens the bottom, right hand drawer. He pulls it open all the way. He reaches into the back, and pulls out the first aid kit. He motions her over. She takes a seat in her chair. He opens the kit. She tries to take it from him.

"You're bleeding everywhere, let me do it," he insists.

She holds her finger out, in submission. He carefully holds gauze around it. He removes the gauze, and wipes it with an alcohol pad. He notices the reflective material embedded inside. He pulls out a pair of tweezers, from the kit. He carefully pulls out the piece of mirror. She doesn't wince, but her jaw tightens as he removes it. He carefully places it on the gauze pad, and brushes it into the trash can. He wraps her finger with gauze, and tape. He puts a band-aid over top, to be on the safe side.

"Why is the first aid kit in my desk?" she questions.

"Because you're the one who is always getting hurt. You might want to put on a new shirt."

"I know."

He looks at her bag. He opens it for her, and hands a clean shirt to her.

"Thanks."

"There's no one else here," he reminds her.

"So?"

"It's not anything I haven't seen before."

She rolls her eyes, and slips off her shirt. She notices the look of disappointment on his face, when he realizes she's wearing a tank-top underneath. She throws the bloody shirt at him, and pulls the new one on.

"What is with that stupid look on your face?"

"It's just my face," he answers.

"Really? You look disappointed."

"Maybe I am."

"Why is it that you are always trying to take care of me? I don't need to be taken care of."

"Because I love you," the words slip from his tongue, before he can stop them.

She stares at him, in complete disbelief, at his accidental admission.

He pulls into his parking spot. He grabs his cup of coffee, and heads towards the building. On his way through security, the guard bumps into him. The coffee spills all over his shirt. This was not going to be pretty. It was an accident, hopefully it wasn't a sign, of how the day was going to turn out. His gut, tells him other wise, as he tries to wipe the coffee off his shirt, as he steps onto the elevator.

He feels the car behind him make impact. He tries to react, but it's too little, too late. He feels himself drifting into the next lane. The front end of his car moves towards the semi, in the next lane. The grill makes impact. He feels himself fly forward, and then back. The he hits his head on the steering wheel. The airbags deploy, sending him backwards, into the head rest. Everything goes black.


	2. Life, and Death

Gibbs comes into the squad room. He pulls off his shirt, when he reaches his desk, and changes to another one. He looks around the squad room. David, present, DiNozzo, check. Where was McGee? He looks at McGee's empty desk. He looks at the other two. They stare at each other, from behind their desks, in silence. What was going on? Was he missing something? He takes a seat, at his desk. The elevator doors open. He finds Abby racing towards him, with a look of panic, on her face.

"What's wrong, Abs?"

"Only everything."

"Everything? What do you mean?"

"There's been an accident."

"An accident? What kind of an accident?"

"A car accident."

"Who?"

"McGee is in the hospital."

"Is he ok?"

"I don't know."

Gibbs looks at Tony, "Have you seen the director?"

"Not yet, boss."

"He's en route," Abby reveals.

"Abs, do you want to wait?"

"Wait? No, Gibbs, there's no point."

"No point? What do you mean?"

"He's not coming with us."

"You don't think he would want to go see McGee?"

"He can't," Abby answers, with tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

"Why not?"

"Because he was in the other car. He's en route, to autopsy."

"He's dead?"

"McGee hit him. He flew into a semi. His head was severed."

"Abby calm down."

"Calm down? Gibbs, everything is going wrong. This day just keeps getting worse."

"Getting worse? How did it start out?" he wonders.

"It doesn't matter. Can we just go visit McGee?"

"Ziva, you're driving."

Tony, and Abby look at him. Tony asks the questions, "So we can all die together?"

"So we can get there fast," Gibbs replies.

He tosses Ziva the keys, and they all head for the elevator. The car doors are barely closed, when she speeds out of the garage, towards the hospital. They reach the hospital in five minutes. A drive that took nearly fifteen, more in traffic. Ziva pulls into a parking space, and Abby jumps out, racing to a nearby trash can, to hurl.

He opens his eyes, and finds a room, full of his co-workers. Most of them stare at him, in disbelief. Ziva elbows Abby. Abby turns, and gives her a dirty look. Ziva points. Abby looks at McGee. She smiles. Gibbs heads for the door, motioning for Tony, and Ziva to follow him. Outside McGee's room, in the hallway Gibbs gives them some instructions.

"Why don't the two of you go get some coffee? We're going to be here a while."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go talk to Leon's wife."

They nod in agreement, and slink off to the cafeteria. As they make their way down the hall, neither of them say a word. They step into the elevator, and Tony reaches for the button. The doors close. Ziva just stares at her partner, from behind.

"I can feel your eyes boring through me," he tells her, without turning around.

"Sorry."

"If you have something to say, just say it."

"I don't know what to say. I would hate to say something that I will regret, later."

"Is that what you think?"

"Tony, I don't really know what to think. I know that now is not the time to discuss it, though. McGee is in the hospital, and Vance is..."

"Do you think Abby is ok?" He changes the subject.

"I don't know."

"I've never seen her so upset."

"It's McGee."

"She threw up. I've never seen Abby throw up."

"It was my fault. I shouldn't have been so erratic, in my driving."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Maybe you've just gotten used to it."

"I doubt it."

"What else could it be?"

She takes a seat, on a chair, next to his bed. She looks at him, but doesn't say a word.

"Abby, say something."

"Do you know how worried you had me?"

"I apologize."

"Don't."

"Ok, I take it back."

"Do you know what happened?"

"I hit someone. I was in a hurry. I..."

"Vance is dead."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You hit Vance. He crashed, into a semi. He's dead."

"I killed him?"

"It was an accident."

"Abs are you ok?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't look ok."

"I thought that... I would never see you alive, again."

"Are you sure that's it?"

"No."

"You want to tell me about it?"

"No. Now isn't the time."

"Are you sure about that? I mean I can't go anywhere."

"I don't want to talk about it, not now, not here."

"Abby what's wrong?"

"You almost died today. Vance is dead. I... I just, I can't handle anything else, right now."

"Anything else? What else?"

"Nothing," she lies.


	3. When You Can't Let The Past Go

He hands her the carrier full of coffee. He pulls out his wallet, and pays the lady at the register. He puts his wallet away, and holds onto a caf-pow. They walk in silence, back to the elevator. As they wait, he finds the silence to be unbearable.

"I regret saying a lot of things," he begins.

"You should. You say things without thinking."

"I know."

"You should take it back."

"Why would I take it back? I don't regret saying it."

"You don't regret saying it? You should."

"Why? It's true."

"Is this where you explain to me that I misinterpreted what you said. You're going to tell me what you really meant?"

"No, I meant what I said."

"No you don't," she argues.

"How do you know?"

"I know that it's not true."

"Then you're not as smart, as I thought."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You should know, by now, it is true."

"You love me like a sister?"

"No, and I can't believe that you would tell someone that I'm like your brother."

"Why not?"

"A, because you killed your brother. And B, because then... never mind."

"Then what?"

"Then what I feel for you, would be incestuous."

"What is it, that you feel, for me, exactly, Tony?"

"I already told you."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"Because you... you know why."

"We're not always with people, for the right reasons. Sometimes the reason we're with someone is purely for physical reasons."

"What are you telling me?"

"That's why I'm with her. She fulfills a physical need, that I have."

"I see."

He exhales. He looks at her, and admits.

"I'm sorry about what happened, the other night."

"I know."

"I know it's not what you wanted," he adds.

"When are things about what I want?"

"You know that I would never leave you, right?"

"McGee, I don't know what I know, anymore."

"Why are you in such a glum mood?"

"Someone is dead. You nearly died. I think that I have a right to be in a glum mood."

"You didn't like the director."

"That doesn't matter."

"What is really going on here?"

"Just stop with the twenty questions. I'm the one who should be asking the questions right now."

"What questions?"

"What the hell were you thinking? I don't care how late you were, driving that fast, is reckless, and stupid. You killed someone. McGee do you get that? Your carelessness killed someone."

"It was an accident."

"It could have been avoided."

"A lot of accidents can be avoided, but they aren't, that is why they're called accidents."

"Actions have consequences McGee. Gibbs isn't going to be able to get you out of this one, if Vance's wife decides to press charges. You could go to prison. Do you understand that?"

"Abby why are you so angry at me?"

"Because what you did was stupid."

"I've done a lot of stupid things."

"I know, I've been there for some of them."

"Why do you care, if I go to prison?"

"Because you're my friend."

"You can come visit."

"You're unbelievable."

"What? What do you want me to say? I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

"You've made a lot of mistakes."

"Why do I get the feeling that we're not talking about the accident, anymore?"

"We are talking about the accident, just a different one."

"A different one? What different one?"

"McGee, you can't go to prison. I... I need you."

"You need me? Abby you don't need anyone."

"I love you."

"I know."

"No, you have no idea."

He washes his hands, and dries them on paper towels. He gets into the elevator, and finds solace in the quiet. This had been a rough day, already, and it wasn't even noon yet. He had already performed an autopsy, on a friend. Another friend, was in the hospital. It had been a day, of accidents. Accidents that they wouldn't soon forget. Accidents that they couldn't forget.

He sits on the couch, of his boss, his former enemy. They had never really gotten along. Their philosophies were too different, but that didn't matter now. As he attempts to console the wife of the deceased he can't help but feel the winds of change encircling them. Things were about to change, once again. He didn't know, if his team could handle anymore change. They had, in the past been able to adapt, with the changes. That was before they had lost so much. They had lost friends, and co-workers. It was become commonplace, and he didn't like it. He didn't like how comfortable he had become, with pulling on a suit, and a tie, and going to yet another funeral.

She finds her, sitting outside McGee's room. She shoots her partner a look. He hands Abby her beverage, and goes on, into McGee's room. Ziva kneels next to her. She sits crumpled up, against the wall. The tears trail down her face. She doesn't touch the caffeine laden beverage. Ziva touches Abby's knee.

"Abby, why are you out here?"

"I... I couldn't breathe in there."

"What's really going on?"

"This day, I didn't think that it could get any worse. I didn't think that I could be anymore in shock, but here I am. I just... I don't know if I can handle anymore change. I didn't need anymore accidents in my life, not today. I think any other day, I could have handled it, but not today."

"What's different about today?"

"I woke up, and..."

"And what?"

"I got out of bed, and the whole world changed. I think I would have been better off, if I had just stayed in bed, today."

"You don't mean that."

"The thought didn't cross your mind?"

"Maybe, but things change. Accidents happen. We have to deal with them, as they come."

"I am tired of dealing with everything. I am sick of change."

"What's wrong with you, today?"

"Everything. Everything is wrong. I don't know how to fix it, I don't know if I can. I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning?"

"I don't think that you're an expert on that. You're not that great with change, either."

"No, I am certainly not. Especially when the opportunity to change, comes from the least likely source."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tony."

"Tony?"

"What stupid thing did he say now?"

"He said that he loves me."


	4. In The Trash Can

"What did you say?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Why not?"

"What was I supposed to say?"

"You were supposed to tell him the truth."

"The truth? And what is that?"

"That you feel the same way."

"I don't."

"You, do. You think that you shouldn't. It's wrong because he's your partner, but you do."

"No."

"Why can't you admit that?"

"I will admit that, when you tell me what is bothering you. The real reason that you are in such a terrible mood."

"McGee and I, we..." she trails off.

"Is that news?"

"Recently," Abby clarifies.

"Oh."

"And, it brought up things, that I had forgotten about."

"Feelings?"

"That I don't think, are completely, reciprocated."

"They are."

"No, I don't think so."

"McGee is awkward, in relationships. He doesn't know what to say, or do."

"He needs to figure it out."

Ziva doesn't say anything. She just looks at Abby. Abby stares back at her, with an unusual look on her face.  
>-<p>

"Did she lecture you?"

"Yes."

"Are you ok?"

"I think that I am better than she is, right now."

"You know how upset she gets, when someone gets hurt."

"This was different Tony, I can't explain it, but it was different."

"She has been acting weird all day. What did you do to her?"

"I may have reopened a can of worms."

"McGee! You didn't."

"I don't know what I was thinking. I guess that I wasn't thinking. I would never want to hurt her."

"I think that you did."

"I know, and I don't know how I can fix it."

"Why not?"

"Because this time, she wants more."

"And that scares you?"

"I had given up on that, a long time ago. Usually when she makes up her mind, that's it."

"Everyone is allowed to change their mind."

"I know, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Don't be an idiot."

"Is that advice, from personal experience?"

"Pretty much."

"Pretty much? You're admitting that you act like an idiot."

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"I told Ziva that I love her."

"You did what? Why would you tell her that?"

"You know why."

"But she's not ready to hear that, even if it's true."

"If?"

"Even though it's true."  
>-<p>

He approaches the two women in the hallway. He watches, as Ziva helps his favorite forensic scientist to her feet. She hands Gibbs her drink.

"I don't want this."

"Ok," he nods.

"We're going to go get some fresh air," Ziva reveals.

"I think that would be a good idea," he agrees.

He watches them disappear down the hall, into the elevator. He steps into McGee's room, and tosses the caf-pow in the trash.

"Why did you do that?" Tony questions.

"She didn't want it."

Tony's eyes lock with Gibbs'. Gibbs nods, and Tony races out of the room. Gibbs takes a seat, next to McGee.

"What was that about?"

"McGee you still have a lot of things to learn."

"Why didn't Abby want her caf-pow? Why did Tony run out of here?"

"You should be able to answer that yourself."

"Boss... I have no clue. My brain..."

"Isn't working today?"

"No, I guess not."

"What happened?"

"I overslept. I was running late. I didn't want to get to work late."

"I'd rather you get there late, than dead."

"I know."

"McGee this is serious. You killed someone, today."

"I know."

"I hope that she doesn't press charges."

"She should. I did it. It was my fault. I deserve to be punished."

"It was an accident."

"She should press charges."

"I don't think that would be fair."

"To me?"

"To Abby."

"To Abby? What do you mean?"

"Figure it out."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back. I've got to go round up your teammates."

"Boss, I..."

"I know, McGee. And you're going to be a whole lot sorrier, soon."

"Why?"

Gibbs doesn't say a word, he just points to the trashcan, as he leaves the room.


	5. Let Her Go

They sit on a bench, outside the hospital entrance. She looks at the person next to her.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Are you sure? I'm a great listener. I mean, after all, Tony is my partner, I am used to listening to someone, all of the time."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I find that hard to believe. You look like you're dying to talk about it."

"What is there to talk about?"

"A lot."

"Like what? How stupid I was? What a mistake it was? That I should have known better?"

"If you want."

"It's not fair."

"Maybe not, but when is life fair?"

"Never, as far as I can tell."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything."

"Are you sure?"

"It's the wrong time, and the wrong situation, but I'm not planning on doing anything. I'm just scared."

Ziva examines the look on her face. She exhales, and reaches out. Abby looks at her, in confusion. Ziva hugs her. Abby relaxes, a hair, and hugs her back. She lets go, and gives Ziva a weak smile.

"Thanks, I needed that."

"It's going to be ok."

"That's easy for you to say."

"You will figure it out."

"How? I am great at juggling, but I don't think that I can juggle this too."

"You're going to have to make so sacrifices, if this is really what you want."

"Especially since McGee is going to prison. Not that it really matters, probably."

He walks past the elevator, and races down the stairs. He gets to the bottom floor, and runs out the door. He races down the sidewalk, towards them. He stops in front of them. He says nothing, trying to catch his breath.

"What was that about?" Abby questions.

"You let Gibbs throw away your caf-pow," he pants.

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"I'm not offended."

"Then why are you down here?"

"I thought that you might like some moral support."

"And why is that?"

"Because I can only think of one reason you'd throw away a caf-pow."

"There's more than one reason," she argues.

"Yeah but..."

"I think that while we're all here, we should talk about what happened between the two of you, today."

"We don't need to talk about that," Ziva warns.

"I think that you do," Abby disagrees.

"Why does it matter, Abs?"

"Because, Tony, you are not very good with admitting your feelings."

"She's not very good at accepting them."

"Did you stop, and think about why?"

"Why? What do you mean Abby?"

"Everyone she loves runs away, or dies."

"Oh," he lets it sink in.

Ziva looks at her partner, not saying a word. He exhales. "Is that it? You don't want me to die? So you can't love me back?"

She shrugs.

"I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you."

"Accidents happen," she points out.

"Maybe, but I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't keep that promise, so you shouldn't make it."

"If I go anywhere, I'm taking you with me."

"Tony..."

"If I die, you die too."

"I... I cannot talk about this right now," she gets off the bench, and walks away. Tony takes a step after her.

"Let her go," a familiar voice muses.

He turns, and looks at his boss, "Boss..."

"Let her go. DiNozzo you have to learn that sometimes, you have to let her go."

"Look at what happened last time. I almost didn't get her back."

"Almost. You have to let her go this time. She's not running. She's just walking away. You have to let her do that, sometimes."

"You don't understand," he argues.

"Yes, I do. I don't like it, but I understand."

"I..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, DiNozzo. I get it."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Go talk to McGee."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Figure it out."

Tony walks back, towards the building, the opposite direction of his partner.

He takes a seat next to her. He cocks his head. He looks into her green eyes. She struggles to maintain eye contact.

"Speak," he insists.

"No," she shakes her head.

"No?"

"You'll be disappointed in me."

"Why?"

"Because I made a mistake."

"People make mistakes all the time."

"People do, I don't."

"How would you ever learn anything, if you never made mistakes? Is this really a mistake?"

"It's definitely an accident."

"Yeah, well, accidents happen."

"Gibbs, I'm scared."

"I would be concerned, if you weren't."


	6. Just Tell Me Why

She leans up against the car. She runs her fingers through her hair. He approaches her. He stops when he reaches her.

"Something troubling you, my dear?"

"No, Ducky, I am fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I just... sometimes I have a hard time believing people even when I should. I have a hard time trusting people, completely."

"And by people, you mean someone in particular?"

"Yes."

"Would you like me to guess, who?"

"No," she shakes her head.

"Do you want me to listen, or do you want my advice?"

"Your advice. I often wonder if I have allowed myself to make mistakes, because of my inability to trust people, completely, to believe them completely."

"You know what I have found?"

"No, what's that?"

"That the biggest obstacle that we will ever face, is ourselves. Sometimes you have to ignore what your brain is telling you. You get used to people acting in one way, so you group all people together, and expect them all to act the same, and they don't. Not everyone is the same. Some people do not deserve your trust, because given the chance they will betray. If you find someone that you can trust, someone who would not betray your secrets, if their life depended on it, you should do whatever it takes, to keep them in your life. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. Once in a while, it is ok, to ignore your reservations, about something. Life is a gamble, and you can't always take the safest bet, of all people, I thought that you would know that."

"You're right. I do know that."

"Does that help any?"

"Yes."

"How is McGee?"

"He's awake."

"How did Abby react?"

"Badly. She's having a hard time dealing with things."

"Things? Are there other things that I should know about?"

"I'll let her tell you about those."

* * *

><p>She shuffles back into the room. She shuts the door behind herself. She stops at the end of his bed. She crosses her arms, against her chest. She looks at him. He stares back.<p>

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" He questions.

"Are you done being an idiot?"

"I can't make any promises."

"Now is not the time for jokes, McGee."

"I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say."

"Something. Anything."

"I'm sorry..."

"Anything but that," she warns him.

"But I am."

"That's not what I want to hear right now."

"You don't want to hear that I am sorry for everything that has happened. I'm sorry about what happened today. I am sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that..."

"Don't," she interrupts him.

"Talk to me. You're angry, and I understand that, but I need you to tell me what else is going on. I need to hear it from you."

"McGee... I don't think that I want to do this."

"Ok."

"I mean, with you."

"Excuse me?"

"I am going to do this, but I don't think it is going to be with you."

"Why not?"

"Because things changed. Today, everything changed. You took someone's life, because you were careless. I just can't look at you the same."

"Abby I am the same person."

"McGee, you could be sent to prison. You are most likely going to lose your job. An unemployed, inmate, doesn't have much to offer."

"I am the same person. I don't know what I can do, or say, to make you believe that."

"I don't know. I don't think you can do, or say anything. McGee, I can't..."

"You're scared?" He guesses.

"Obviously."

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean, why? Do you understand what is happening here? The fact that I am this calm, right now, is a miracle."

"I understand."

"What did you mean, exactly?"

"Why would you be scared? You are going to be amazing."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"Me being amazing, that's not enough. You should be there too. That isn't even a possibility now."

"You don't know that."

"Really? Even if you don't lose your job, and go to prison, it's not like you want to do this. This is a lot of responsibility. More responsibility than I think that you want. I mean this is the rest of our lives, we're talking about."

"I know. Abby, I've made mistakes. I know that. I can admit that. I want to be there. I don't want this to be one of my mistakes."

"Why would you want to be there?"

* * *

><p>"Why do I always manage to screw everything up?"<p>

"You didn't."

"I didn't? Do you know what I said to her? I..."

"You told her the truth. You told her how you feel?"

"Yeah. She... she doesn't believe me."

"Maybe she doesn't believe you, because you tried to hide it from her, for so long."

"Tried?"

"I thought she knew. I mean, I knew. McGee knew, Abby knew, Ducky knew, I think that bomb squad dogs knew."

"You're saying that everyone knew?"

"Except, maybe, you."

"I knew."

"Did you?"

"I just wasn't willing to admit it to myself, yet. I was in denial. I mean, she's my partner. It makes things awkward. It changes things."

"Yeah, it does."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For telling her the truth? No, I'm not mad at you for that. I'm a little irritated that you picked now, but there's never a right time."

"When should I have told her?"

"Sooner."

"Sooner? But..."

"You never know when you're going to walk out the door, and see someone, for the last time."

"Boss, are you getting sentimental, on me?"

"It's the truth DiNozzo. Accidents happen. How you deal with them, how you choose to move on, that's the important thing."


	7. My Mistakes

"Come here," he pats the bed, next to him.

She moves towards him. Taking a seat next to him, against her will. He touches her arm, and pulls her towards him. He kisses her temple.

"I know that you're scared, and it's ok, because you have every right to be. I understand."

"McGee you don't understand. You're not the one having a baby."

"I..."

"I meant physically. Not that..." she trails off.

"It's going to be ok."

"It's easy for you to say that."

"No, it's not."

"I..."

"It's ok, to cry, if you want to."

"I know," she admits. She rolls onto her side. She lies next to him, with her head against his shoulder. He puts his arm around her.

"I'm sorry that I've been such an idiot."

"Apology accepted," she yawns."You look like you could use a nap."

"Maybe I should go home. I'll come back later."

"Or you could just stay here, and take a nap. I don't think anyone will say anything."

* * *

><p>"What are you doing? Why are you following me?"<p>

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not following you. I came to charge my phone. It's almost dead."

"Why do you need to charge your phone?"

"I just told you, it's almost dead."

"Who is going to call you? All of the people that you talk to on the phone are here, at the hospital."

"Ducky could call."

"He just went to see McGee."

"He's here."

"Yes."

"I didn't know that."

"I just told you, so now you do."

"Are we going to talk about what happened earlier?"

"Are you going to take it back?"

"No."

"Then, no. We're not going to talk about it."

"Today, or ever?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "Never is a long time."

"Yeah, so is forever."

"It's just as long as never."

"Please talk to me. I need you to talk to me."

"What is there to talk about?"

"We don't have to talk about us. We could talk about something else."

"Like what? There aren't a lot of great topics right now."

"We could talk about McGee."

"And how he caused an accident that killed the director?"

"We could talk about Abby."

"And how she's about ready to go off the deep end."

* * *

><p>"How is he?" he questions as he stops alongside the bench Jethro is sitting on.<p>

"Awake."

"Oriented?"

"He knows where he is, and what he did."

"Should we be concerned."

"McGee is the one that I am least concerned with, right now."

"Ziva told me what Tony said to her."

"Those two will work things out, they always do."

"So who are you concerned about, then?"

"Abby."

"Abby, why Abby?"

"She's got a lot on her plate right now. I don't know if she can handle it all. I have faith in her, but she's in a rough place right now."

"Why?"

"She needs McGee."

"Do you think that..."

"I don't know, Duck. I hope not. Abby needs him."

"You said that, but why?"

"She needs him now, more than ever."

"Why?"

"I'll let her tell you that."

"She loves him."

"Sometimes I think it's my fault."

"That she loves him?"

"That my team can never tell other people how they feel about them. I am not good at it. I am not good at relationships. They learn from my example, and I haven't set a very good one. I am a cautionary tale, that if you love someone you'll get burnt. I don't want them to think that. I don't want them to be afraid to be in love."

"Are you afraid to be in love?"

"No. I love, love. I'm just afraid they are so focused on not making the same mistakes that I have, that they won't be able to hold onto love, when it finds them."

"You know I've always thought that Abby, and McGee would end up together."

"I know. You're not the only one."

"And at first, I thought Ziva would kill Tony."

"But by some miracle she didn't."

"And she began to have a great affinity for him."

"He grew on her."

"And when he went to rescue her. It reminded me of a fairy tale."

"DiNozzo is no prince."

"No, and it was no fairy tale, but he acted valiantly. He went to save her, even though we were all certain that she could not be saved. When she returned, I noticed something in her had changed."

"A lot of things about her changed."

"But it was like her being broken, was the only way, she could ever truly let anyone in. Tony is the only person she has ever let that close. It was bound to happen."

"Why do you think I had to make the rules in the first place? Some things are bound to happen."

"Yes, and some rules are meant to be broken."

"And some are not."

"I think that it's time you write some new rules, Jethro."

"You want me to add to the list?"

"The list is from your past. It's time you updated the list, make it more current."

"Duck, is this you telling me to let go of the past, and start living in the present?"

"Yes, but not in so many words."


	8. Tonight

"You should all go home. It's going to be a long couple of days. I'm fine, you don't have to stay," he insists.

"McGee, we're..." Tony begin to reassure him.

He cuts him off, "No, go."

They nod. Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs leave the room. Abby sits in a chair, in the corner of the room.

"Abs, you too."

"I'm fine," she argues.

"You're tired, please go home."

"I don't want to go home. I don't want to leave."

"Please, do this for me."

"I am doing this for you."

"Abby, stop being so stubborn. Please just go home. I would feel better knowing that you got some sleep."

"I'm not going to get any sleep, at home."

"I don't expect you to stay."

"I want to stay."

"Abby whatever happens..."

She shakes her head, "I don't want to hear this speech. I don't false assurance."

"What do you want? Tell me what you want."

"I want..." she trails off.

"You want what?"

"I want a do-over. I want to start this day over, and change what happened."

"But we can't. We can only move forward."

"How are we going to move forward? We're always going to carry the past around with us."

"The past is a reminder of the things we did wrong. We have to carry it around, so we don't repeat the same mistakes."

"Do you think that this was a mistake?"

"What? Was what a mistake, Abs?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Do you think it was a mistake. If you do..."

"No, Abby, I don't think that it was a mistake. I think that it was unplanned. I think that it was a surprise, but I don't think that it was a mistake. I would never think that."

"Are you sure, because..."

"Everything happens for a reason."

"I just wish I knew the reasons."

"One day you will."

"McGee..." she stops.

"Abby, whatever you need to say, you can tell me."

"I'm so scared."

He smiles, "I know," he motions for him.

He pulls her into a hug. "I know that this is scary. I know that this is hard. Whatever challenges this may bring, we will get through together. I'm here. Even if I can't be there for you physically, I am still going to be there. No matter what. I promise."

"Don't make a promise that you can't keep."

"Never," he promises.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing here?"<p>

"I know that I shouldn't be here, but I just... I didn't want to leave the things they were. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep, until we talked."

"What is there to talk about?"

"You know what."

"I don't want to go there."

"Why not?"

"I am not ready to go there."

"Are you ever going to be ready?"

"Maybe, one day, if I can believe you."

"Why wouldn't you be able to believe me?"

"It is not your fault."

"It's the others who came before me?" he guesses.

"Even if I wanted this, and I am not saying that I do, but if I did, I could never be ok with giving you my heart, not now. I do not want to give you a broken heart. That isn't fair. You deserve more."

"I don't think that you get it."

"Get what? What is there to get? You are confused."

He grabs her arms, to keep her from running away. "No, I'm not confused," he looks her in the eyes. "I'm not confused. I know what I said. I meant what I said."

"How? How can you mean what you said?"

"Sometimes our heart, it refused to communicate with our brain. Sometimes our heart sends impulses to the brain, but the brain doesn't want to respond."

"In other words?"

"My heart has wanted this for a very long time, but my brain refused to hear my heart out. One day I couldn't take it anymore. My brain says it's a bad idea, but my heart doesn't care."

"Is that what you are really thinking with? Your heart?"

"What else would I be thinking with?" he lets go off her.

She shoots him a look. "The other thing you usually think with."

"My stomach?" he furrows his brow in confusion.

"Lower," she answers.

"Oh."

"If that is what you are thinking with... I might be able to handle that."

"Wait, a minute. You are telling me that you would be willing to have sex with me, but you wouldn't be willing to be in a relationship with me? You would rather be friends with benefits, than take the risk that comes along with a possible commitment?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"People tend to stick to the things that they are good at."

"Meaning?"

"I am good with a gun. I am good at catching criminals. I am good at sex. I am not good at relationships."

"Is it because of me or..."

She shrugs, "You don't understand."

He smiles at her.

"What?" she responds.

"When did you start using so many contractions?"

"It is a conscious effort."

"Why are you making a conscious effort?"

"Something you said."

"You do listen."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I just want you to give this a chance."

"Can't we compromise?"

"How?"

"I do not want to make a promise that I cannot keep. I do not want to ruin what we already have."

He cuts her off, "How is that a compromise?"

"Let me finish."

"Ok," he nods.

"I don't know if I can give you forever. I don't know if I can give you tomorrow. All I can give you is tonight."

"What if I want more?"

"I am willing to try, but I am not ready to make a long term commitment. I can give you tonight. From there I will make no promises. I can only take things one day at a time."

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"I'll take what I can get."


	9. The Bed We Make

His lips creep into a wide smile. His smile reaches her eyes. Her eyes smile back. The reaction spreads down the rest of her face. Her lips upturn in a smile. He stands in front of her, waiting for her to take the first move. She feels her stomach doing flip flops. Why was she so nervous? She had been waiting on this, for some time. Maybe it was the past. She shakes the thought from her head. She was not going to allow the events of the past to ruin this; to ruin her. At some point she had to move on. Tonight. She wanted this. With him, she wanted this. Even if all they could ever have, was this one night. That was all she needed. She needed him, more than anything, or anyone.

He stands as still as a statue. He waits, patiently. He knows not to push her. The last thing he wanted to do, was make her uncomfortable. He didn't want to do anything, to bring up the pain. Pain, that she had fought so hard to overcome. He was used to being assertive. Tonight, he was not going to be assertive, or pushy. Tonight he was going to let things happen. However things worked out, was going to be ok. He peers into her deep brown eyes. Her eyes always seemed to reflect her mood. When she was sad, or angry, or hurt, they were darker, almost black. When she was happy, they were lighter. Right now they were like milk chocolate, light, and trusting.

She moves towards him. The closer she moves the more she feels his nervous energy. What did he have to be nervous about? It hits her. He was afraid that he would hurt her. He was afraid that he would reopen some barely healed wounds. Emotional scars. Her thoughts race. Scars? She had forgotten about the scars. Clothes covered her scars. They protected her, from scrutiny. Tonight she was going to have to face him. Face them.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he asks nervously loosening his tie.

"Let me do that," she insists. She closes the space between them. She dexterously removes the tie, and tosses it onto the arm of the couch.

He looks into her eyes, trying to read her, "You didn't answer my question."

"No. I am not having second thoughts."

"Then what was the look about?"

"Are you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?"

"Hurting me?"

"I don't know why you would think that."

"You seem incredibly nervous. Is that why?"

"I..."

"If you think that this is a bad idea, then..."

He cuts her off, "I just don't want to do any damage."

"I am not that fragile. I am not going to break."

"I would never want to do anything to hurt you."

"You are not going to hurt me."

"What if I do something that brings up..." he trails off. He tugs at his collar. He breaks eye contact, and looks away. She unbuttons the top button.

"Look at me," she insists.

He turns his head, and looks at her.

"You are not going to hurt me. You are not going to do anything wrong."

"What if I do?"

"I will stop you, before you do."

"And if you can't?"

"I am not that damaged. I can handle myself."

"What if it's bad?"

"What, if what is bad?"

"This. What if we've built it up in our minds so much, that it can never meet our expectations?"

"We'll just have to keep trying, until we make it meet our expectations."

"What if we can't? What if it is so bad that..."

"I have never known you to have performance anxiety."

"I have never been with you."

"I do not know why you are nervous. If anyone should be nervous, it's me."

"You? What do you have to be nervous about?"

"You mean other, than waking the neighbors?"

He smiles, "Yeah, other than that."

"There are things that you don't see."

"I know that."

"I..."

"It's ok."

"Tony, I haven't..." she trails off.

"Haven't what?"

"It has been a while."

"How long?"

"Does it really matter?"

"I'm just curious."

"Not since..."

He opens his eyes, and finds that she is still asleep, next to him. He watches her as she sleeps. She lies on her side. Her hand rests on his chest. It is pressed against his heart. He exhales. She stirs. Her eyes pop open.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's ok."

"No, it's not. It's late. Go back to sleep."

"What were you doing, anyway?"

"Nothing. I just woke up."

"What were you doing?"

"I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"About things."

"What things?"

"What do you think it will be like?"

"What, what will be like?"

"Our kid, what do you think he or she will be like?"

She shrugs, "I hadn't given it much thought."

"Why not?"

"Because I am still in a state of shock."

"I hope she has your eyes."

"She?"

"Or he."

"How are we..."

"We'll figure it out."

"That is easy for you to say."

"Why would you think that?"

"You're probably going to prison, and... I am the one who will physically be having the baby."


	10. Letting Go

"Abby?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, McGee."

"Would you marry me?"

She blinks, "I am going to go back to sleep now."

"Would you? If I asked would you?"

"I... I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

"Why?"

"Now is not the time."

"When is the right time?"

"Probably never."

"Because you never want to get married?"

"Because... you don't understand."

"There are a lot of things about you that I don't understand."

"Now is not the time to ask. My world entire world just underwent a paradigm shift, today. I woke up this morning, and I felt like crap. I found out why, confirming my suspicions. I didn't think that my day could get any worse. Then it did. You were in an accident. I was afraid that you wouldn't be ok. I was afraid that I would lose you. Then I found out that the director was dead. You are responsible for his death. You are in the hospital. Everything changed, in the blink of an eye."

"You aren't happy?"

"What?"

"You aren't happy, about having this baby?"

"I am not ready for this baby. I was blindsided."

"Do you want this baby?"

She furrows her brow, "How could you even ask me that?""I think that it is a valid question."

"I do. I just... I need time. I am going to need time to get used to the idea. Ok?"

"So why don't you want me to ask you to marry me?"

"I don't want you to ask a question like that, on a day like this. I don't want you to ask, out of obligation."

"You think that I am asking out of obligation? I'm not."

"How do I know that?"

"I love you."

"You aren't asking, because I am pregnant, with your baby, and you think that it is the right thing to do?"

"No."

"Then why are you asking?"

"I told you. I love you."

"If you love me you won't ask."

"I don't want to lose you. I don't want someone else to snake their way in, and take you away from me. There is a real possibility that I could be going to prison. You might wait a while for me. Once the baby comes, things will be different. You will want someone who can be there for you. You'll need someone who can be there, for our child. If I can't, someone else will try to fill my shoes."

"No one is going to take your place."

"If you are so certain of that, then marry me."

"No. I am not going to marry you."

"You don't love me?"

"I don't want to marry you. I don't want to get married, ever, to anyone."

"You don't want to be a family?"

"I don't need to be married to have that."

"You..."

"I am never going to want to get married. I am willing to spend the rest of my life with you. I am willing to be a family, with you, and our child."

"Why won't you commit?"

"I am. I don't need a piece of paper to prove that I am committed."

* * *

><p>He stares at the tumblers of bourbon. He smiles. He looks at the man standing next to him.<p>

"What's that about?" he questions.

"I'm happy," Gibbs admits.

"Happy? On a day like this?"

"Yes."

"Leon Vance is in a drawer, in my morgue. One of our own put him there. It's a sad day."

"Duck, sometimes it takes tragedy, to make people realize what they mean to each other."

"Yes, I suppose."

"The rules... sometimes they build walls between people."

"What are you saying?"

"I think that it's time to take down some of the walls."

"I am sure that walls are being taken down, as we speak."

"You think?"

"Oh, I am sure of it. Abby is with McGee."

"Yes."

"She's never going to let him go anywhere."

"No," Jethro agrees.

"And Ziva, and Tony... they will figure it out, eventually."

"If they haven't already."

"They remind me of another couple, I once knew. I just hope, for their sakes, that they don't make the same mistakes."

"They're different. They're more patient."

"But they are very similar."

"He came too close to losing her, to ever let her go."

"Sometimes the people we love slip through our fingers, when we try holding on too tightly."

"And sometimes when you let go, they come back."

"No one can wait forever."

"I missed my chance."

"She came back. For you. You let her go."

"What was I supposed to do?"

"Tell her the truth."

"I couldn't."

"Now it's too late."

"I know. She's gone, and it's my fault."

"It's not your fault."

"How do you figure? If I had told her, she never would have gone out there, and tried to be a cowboy."

"She would still be gone."

"Maybe, but I needed more time."

"Let's toast," Ducky suggests.

"To what?"

"To the lessons we learned the hard way."

"I'll drink to that," Jethro raises his glass.


	11. Change

"Maybe it would help, if we were hammered."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I am not going to change my mind, no matter how many times you ask."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," she nods.

"What if..."

"If you're too afraid to do this, then maybe you should go home."

"I am not afraid."

"Really, because it seems like you are."

"What happens, after this happens?"

"Nothing. Nothing changes. Not right now."

"And you're sure about that?"

"Yes," she nods

"Ok."

"So are we going to do this, or not?"

"The ball is in your court," he replies.

* * *

><p>"Abby?"<p>

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

"There are rules..."

He cuts her off, "I know that there are rules against apologizing, but you deserve it. I have been an idiot. I should have told you the truth, all along. I shouldn't have waited for years to..."

"To what?"

"I wish that you had known, all along."

"I did."

"You did? But there were other guys."

"What was I supposed to do? Wait around forever, and wait for you to figure our what I already knew? I am patient, but not that patient."

"What if one of them had come in, and swooped you away."

"I was never interested in being swooped away."

"That doesn't mean that someone couldn't have tried."

"They could have, but they didn't. Things never got that serious."

"And why not?"

"Because none of them were you."

* * *

><p>He stands perfectly still, outside, in the dark.<p>

"I really screwed this up," he admits.

He gets no response, not that he expected to. He was talking to her headstone. She wasn't there. It was just her memory, that lived there. It didn't make things any easier, though.

"Jen, I am sorry. I should have told you the truth. I wish that you were still here. I don't know how I'm supposed to fix this. How am I supposed to protect my team? I can't even protect them from themselves."

He stares at the polished rock. It was a very nice stone. She would have liked it. Not that it mattered. She was gone, and she was never coming back. How was he supposed to move on? He had never really told her the truth. He wasn't ready, to let her go.

"I don't want them to make the same mistakes that we did. They have been so dedicated to NCIS, to my team, for so long. They have sacrificed so much. And for what? When the job is done, they will have no one to share it with."

* * *

><p>He rolls over, and looks at the clock. He considers slipping out. It was early, the sun wasn't even up yet. He could slip out, and pretend that nothing happened. Pretend that nothing happened, yeah right. Something had happened between them. It was a colossal mistake, too. It wasn't bad. It had been incredible. That was the problem. She swore it wouldn't change anything, but he wasn't convinced. It had changed, for him, at least. He wanted her now, more than ever. He wanted her, to be his.<p>

She stares at the back of his head, wondering. Did he know that she was awake, that she was watching him. She waits, for him to bolt. She had assumed that is what he would do, but he doesn't move. She wishes that he would just leave. Then she wouldn't have to deal with him. She wouldn't have to talk to him. She didn't want to face him. Not now, maybe not ever. This was a mistake. She had been mistaken to think that it wouldn't change things. It did change things. She didn't want him to go, and she would never ask him to stay.

He feels her eyes boring through the back of his head. He rolls over, and looks at her. She stares at him. Neither of them say anything. They don't even touch. They find themselves tangled in silence, and sheets. It hits him, they are both still naked. He studies her face, trying to interpret the signals. Should he go? Should he stay? Maybe he should just ask.

"Do you want me to go."

"It is up to you," she replies.

She couldn't ask him to stay. The ball was in his court, "You know, I make a great breakfast."

"You can't cook," she responds.

"I can. There are a lot of things that you don't know about me."

She smiles, "Obviously."

"So are we going to talk about this, or not?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"I don't know. If you wanted to talk, that would be ok."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know."

"I do not need to talk about my feelings."

"Ok."

"I am not someone who needs to cuddle, and..."

"Ziva?"

"What?"

"Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Don't pretend."

"Pretend? What are you talking about."

"Don't look at me, and act like this changed nothing."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I just want the truth."

"That's what you want to hear? You want me to say that you're the best I've ever had?"

"I just want the truth," he replies.

"I think that this was a mistake."

"Why?"

"After last night, I'm not sure how I am ever supposed to be with someone else."

"You don't have to be."

"Tony... we can't do this. There are rules against it. It will never work."

"I think that you're wrong."

"Because?"

"Last night was amazing."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Really? You are honestly telling me that last night meant nothing to you? You expect me to believe that it didn't change something for you?"

"It doesn't matter, even if it did."

"And why is that?"

"We can't be together."

"Why not?"

"It will end badly."


	12. Slippery Slope

They stand around the hole in the ground. They stand in silence, around an expensive casket. Abby stares at the ground, avoiding his wife's glance. Gibbs stands next to her. Ducky stands next to him, complete with a bowtie. Palmer stands between Ducky, and Tony. Ziva stands next to Tony, wearing a black dress. They barely speak throughout the service. They give their condolences, and go their separate ways.

* * *

><p>She carefully descends the staircase. She stops, and the bottom stair, and just looks at him. He carefully sands a piece of wood.<p>

Without looking up he asks, "Are you going to stand on the stairs all day?"

"I don't know why I'm here," she admits.

"Because you want me to tell you what to do."

"What should I do?"

"I can't tell you that," he smiles. He looks up at her, and motions for her to come forward.

"But I wish that you could."

"If I could, you know that I would."

"What are you working on?"

"You'll know soon enough."

"Another boat?" she inquires.

"Nope."

"A casket?"

"No."

"What is it?"

"I'll let you see it when I'm done."

"When will that be?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. Abby, why are you here?"

"I need you to tell me that everything will be ok."

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know that. I can hope that everything will be ok. I will do every thing in my power to make it ok."

"But?"

"But I can't promise that everything will be ok, because I don't know that."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm scared. What is going to happen? I can't do this on my own."

"You can do anything that you set your mind to, you always have."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You might not have a choice."

"I am having a baby."

"I know."

"With McGee."

"I know."

"And he might go to prison. How am I supposed to raise a child, his child, on my own? How am I supposed to work the hours that I work, and take care of a baby? It's impossible. I love my job. I don't want to give that up. I don't want to feel guilty, about not doing everything that I possibly can. I just feel like I can't win. I am still too selfish to do this. I am to immature to do this. What if I can't do this?"

"Do you want out of this? Abby I can't make this all better. I can't fix this. You know that."

"I'm not asking you to. I am just asking you what I am supposed to do."

"Figure out how to do this on your own. Maybe you won't have to, but... you have to figure it out."

"How?"

"There are other jobs in the world."

"I don't want to leave NCIS. It's like my family. I need you guys more now, than ever."

"Abby even if McGee isn't in the picture, you're never going to be alone, in this. You will always have someone there to help you. We will all help you."

* * *

><p>"I thought that I'd find you here," he smiles, as he slides onto the barstool next to her.<p>

"I am that predictable?"

"You are, to me."

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to keep you from starting down a slippery slope."

"What slippery slope?"

"The one that I know you're considering careening down, tonight."

"I am not."

"Really? That is not ginger ale," he points to her glass.

"No, it's not. And, it is not any of your business."

"How many have you had?"

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon," she points out.

"Answer the question," he insists.

"This is my first," she admits.

"The bartender will attest to that?"

"Yes," she nods, "She will also attest to the fact that I have not drank any of it, yet."

"Are you planning on it?"

"Maybe," she shrugs.

"Don't close up. Let me in. You never talk about it. I never bring it up. I know your secret, no matter how hard you try to hide it. I know you. I will support you. I am not going to let you make a stupid decision, like this."

"It's my life," she huffs.

"Says the alcoholic in the room."

She rolls her eyes, but says nothing.

"You aren't going to argue?"

"How can I?"

"You tell me."

"I know my limits. I know my weaknesses. I know that sometimes I use the wrong coping mechanisms. I know me, better than anyone."

"You were in a really low place after Somalia."

"What are you, my shrink?"

"No. You would never go to a shrink."

"Shows how much you know."

He furrows his brow. "What did you say?"

"I have gone."

"To a shrink?" he probes.

She nods.

"I meant other than for mandatory psych evaluations."

"So did I."

He takes the drink in front of her, and swallows it whole.

"Why did you do that?"

"I am just saving you, from yourself."

"I don't need saving."

"Sometimes you do, and you don't even know it. You would never admit it, even if you did. The thing is, I will always save you, even when you don't want to be saved."

"Why is that?"

He changes the subject, "How long has it been?"

"Since?"

"You know."

"Over a year."

"Meetings?"

"They are too time consuming."

"Ziva," she scolds.

"But I go, anyway. I run, and I go to meetings. It's how I deal."

"So why are you here?"

"Because the world is a screwed up place."

"Yes, it is."

"And I realize it more, each day."

"Everything happens for a reason," he reminds her.

"What reason?"

"To make us stronger."

"I do not want to be any stronger."

"So we can learn from our mistakes."

"Haven't we learned enough?"

"Maybe we should make a few more, before we decide."

"I should probably drive you home," she smirks.

"I had one drink."

"You can never be too careful."

"I'll make sure that I brush my teeth, twice, and I'll swish with mouthwash. I don't want to tempt you."

She laughs, as they leave the bar.


	13. Addictions and Additions

Two months have passed, and things begin to take a turn back towards normal, with a few exceptions.

She jerks back into consciousness. She sits up, in the bed, with her eyes open. She stares straight ahead, at the wall. The silence consumes her. In a split second she makes a rash decision. She wanders into the kitchen. She climbs up, on the counter. She opens the cabinet. She reaches in the back, and pulls out the bottle. She grabs a glass, and carefully lowers herself back onto the counter. She firmly plants her butt on the counter, and sets the glass next to her. She opens the bottle, and reaches for the glass.

She allows the bottle to linger, close to her face, after opening it. She smells the scent, of the amber colored liquor. She grabs the glass, and tips the bottle to pour. A strong hand grabs her wrist. Before her cat-like reflexes can overcome her sleepy state, a hand slips the bottle out of her hand. She looks at him, briefly. Without hesitation he takes the bottle, and pour it down the drain. He stares at her, in disappointment.

She stares back at him, in anger, and frustration. He places his hands on the counter, on either sides of her. Her bare feet, and legs dangle over the edge of the counter, against the cabinet. As he looks at her, lovingly, she doesn't relent. The expression on her face doesn't change. He leans forward. She doesn't move, and inch, even when his stubble grazes her ear.

"Tonight," he says softly, "let me be your drug of choice. Let me be your addiction. Let me be enough, just once."

She doesn't say a word. She leans in, and kisses his neck. She runs her fingers through his hair. He responds, by gently lifting her off the counter. With her legs around his waist, he carries him into her bedroom. He carries her through the door, towards his bed. He stops, and lowers her to the bed.

He crawls into the bed, with her. He kisses her. She pushes him away. He feels the frustration, and confusion course through his veins. She places both hands against his chest. He puts his nose in her hair, taking in the freshly shampooed hair. Her slides his hand under her neck. She leans forward, and whispers into his ear.

"Tonight, I just need you to hold me," she finally responds.

* * *

><p>She rolls over, no sleep again, tonight. Another restless night. He feels her anxiety, as if it's his own.<p>

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"You know," she replies.

"It will be fine."

"You don't know that."

"The lawyer says..."

"Rule thirteen," she responds.

"I didn't have a choice."

"Why not?"

"Because you need me. I will do whatever I can to stay here, with you. With her," he touches her stomach.

"We don't know that, yet."

"Maybe you don't."

He pushes stray hair out of her face. He kisses her, and scoots closer to her. He whispers, "Now go to sleep."

His voice is like lyrics. His breaths, and snores, like music. She closes her eyes, and listens. As she lies there, with her eyes closed, she wonders, what other sounds will be added to the chorus of their lives. Cries, and coos, and a parade of sleepless nights. It would only be alright, if his music was there too. A part of a whole. A part that couldn't go missing in action. It would be like the Beetles without Paul, or the Jackson Five without Michael.

* * *

><p>He walks through the doors. He steps through security. He pulls at his tie. His shoes click on the marble, as he moves towards the courtroom. He enters the waiting area, and he sees familiar faces.<p>

Ducky, Tony, Palmer, and Tim wait outside the courtroom. Tim stands, as the others sit.

* * *

><p>She looks around the room, at the women reading magazines. She feels very uncomfortable. Her eyes bob from one miserable woman, to the next. None of them wear smiles, behind their magazines, or newspapers. They are swollen, and tired looking. She turns to the woman, sitting next to her.<p>

The one who wears black, and reads a magazine with a cover that is 90% black. She waits patiently. Instead of looking tired, or annoyed, she looks calm, and prepared. She is the only one in the room wearing a smile.

A nurse comes out the hallway. She calls them back. Abby doesn't look at the time, as she enters the exam room.

* * *

><p>He walks out of the courtroom. He finds two familiar faces, sitting on a bench. He approaches them. He stops in front of them.<p>

"Why aren't you in there?" He asks Abby.

"I couldn't go in," she admits.

"And you?" He turns to Ziva.

"I couldn't let her sit out here, by herself."

"So?" he questions.

"How's it going in there?" Ziva inquires.

"It's hard to tell. McGee has a damn good lawyer, though."

"What if that's not enough?" Abby wonders.

"Let's talk about something else," he suggests.

"Ok," Abby agrees.

Ziva elbows him, "Tell him."

"Tell me? Tell me what?"

"Oh, I have pictures too," she opens her bag. She pulls out the black and white images. She hands them to him. He takes them from her. He studies each one carefully.

"Everything is normal?" he quizzes.

"For the most part," Abby replies.

"What do you mean for the most part?"

"He has to come home. I need him."

"Abs, I know," he reassures her.

"I don't think that you do," she argues, she points to one of the pictures, towards the end.

He studies it. He rubs his eyes, and holds it out further. Then he holds it closer. His eyes drift to Abby's face. She smiles at him, and holds up fingers.


	14. Compromise

"Can we talk?" he asks her, in the darkness of her room.

She rolls over, to face him. She props her head up, on her hand. She exhales.

"About what? It was a long day," she points out.

"And you're tired. I know."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"What are we doing?"

"I was trying to go to sleep. I don't know what you were doing."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it," he insists.

"I do not know what we are doing. I do not think that it needs a definition."

"What if I want one?"

"I have told you what I can offer."

"Is it my turn yet?"

"Your turn?" she furrows her brow in confusion.

"To show you what I have to offer?"

"I..."

"I know that I say, and do stupid things."

"All of the time."

"Everyday," he agrees.

"I am assuming that you had another point, though, right?"

"I make mistakes, everyone does, but I am not a bad person. I can't give you the world, but there are a lot of things that I can give you."

"For example?"

"A shoulder to cry on. Arms to hold you. There are things that I can't fix, and won't try, but I just wish you could see things my way, just once."

"And what way would that be?" she inquires.

"More than just today. Something more. I know that neither of us are perfect, but..."

"I cannot commit to that. I am not ready," she insists.

"I respect that."

"What are you asking me? I am not entirely sure."

"Will you be? Will you ever be ready? When will you know?"

"I will know, when I know," she replies.

"I do not want to push you."

"I will not break. You are not going to send me into a downward spiral. I am not that fragile. I do not get pushed over the edge that easily."

"I just don't want to..."

"I am not going to turn to a bottle, to drown my sorrows. I have learned my lesson."

"Once an addict, always an addict, you have said that yourself."

"I need to work on myself, before I can make any promises to you."

"I just want a semi-commitment from you."

"A semi-commitment? What does that mean?"

"That when you work on you. When you find whatever it is that you need to find, and you are ready to commit, that it will be to me. I can wait forever, as long as I know that I am waiting on someone who wants me," he rambles.

"Ok."

"Ok?" he raises an eyebrow.

"I can't promise you forever. I can't even promise you tomorrow. I cannot promise you a happily ever after. There are so many things that I cannot promise you. What I can promise, is that one day, in the future, near, or far, if I am ready, to start making those promises, I will make them to you," she pours out her heart.

"That's good," he tells her, as he presses her lips to her forehead.

"And why is that?" she wonders.

"Because I love you."

She stares at him, in the darkness of her room. His face is illuminated by moonlight that spills through the window.

"I know that I haven't said that in a while, and... I just want you to know, I still do. I always will."

"I will never understand why."

"You never have to."

* * *

><p>"Why are you sitting in here? It's late, come to bed," he finds her sitting in the center of the living room.<p>

"I am just thinking."

"You can do that in bed."

"I am not ready to come to bed, yet."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to come to bed mad."

"Mad? Why are you mad? Did I make you mad?"

"Yes."

"Why? What did I do? Just tell me, and I will fix it."

"Tim, you can't fix everything."

"Why are you mad at me?"

"You should have been there," she tells him.

"I couldn't."

"I know. I am beginning to realize that there are a lot of things that you aren't going to be there for."

"Why are you mad about that?"

"Because you should be."

"You will miss things too."

"When you got done all you could talk about was the trial. You never even asked how my appointment went. You didn't ask to see pictures."

"I'm sorry. I was just relieved. I wasn't thinking about anything else."

"Exactly," she folds her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"You don't think about things."

"What is this really about?"

"I needed you to be there for me. I expect you to be in, or to be out. There is no in between."

"I am here for you."

"Whenever I need you."

"Abby, are you giving me an ultimatum?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Why?"

"You need to realize what your priorities are."

"If I didn't go to court I would be in jail. You could have scheduled the appointment for another day."

"Is that what you're going to say when I go into labor? Sorry, I missed the birth of our babies, but I was working, you should have gone into labor another day."

"Backup."

"Backup? Why? Am I talking to fast?" she huffs.

"You said babies. Do you realize that you just said babies, the plural of baby?"

"Yes."

"Babies? You want another baby, already? We haven't even had this one."

"What? No."

"Then why did you say babies?"

"Because that is what we're having."

"Babies? What babies?"

"We're having two babies. Twins."

"Oh."

"You would have known that, if you had asked, or shown any interest. I understand that what you have going on is important, but I am important too. We are important," she points to her stomach, "You have to realize that it's not just you anymore."

* * *

><p>He places flowers in front of a shiny, polished stone. He stares at the stone, and wipes the dust off of it. He smiles, and shakes his head.<p>

"I wish that you could see our team. They're all changing. They surprise me everyday. I guess I had forgotten how much tragedy changes people. This time more than ever. Jenny, I wish that you could see them. You would be so proud. Abby, and Tim, they're have a baby. Not a baby, to babies. They're having twins. He wants to marry her, and she told him no. And Tony, and Ziva, they are... testing the waters. I have no idea what they are. I don't think that they do either, but they're different. They're better.

I miss you, Jenny. I know that I really screwed up. I should have chosen differently, but I was afraid. Sometimes I wonder what we'd be doing, if you were still here. I bet right now, you'd be in my basement. We'd have some bourbon, and laugh at how much things have changed, and how foolish we were."

He places his hand on the stone. He traces her first name, with his fingers. He swallows hard. "Goodnight, Jen." He turns, and walks away.


End file.
